The shutters were closed in May's home, but it was lit with soft light, she sat at her dining table with her mother - beneath a painting of the last supper and another pot of tea steamed on the stove.

Outside monsters had flown, the sky was sick - the shock had passed as they prayed as a family, prayed for those fighting as they heard the gunfire and then relieved, sweet silence.

May had wanted to fight - she had felt something. A need, to go help. Her father had refused, of course, her mother horrified - the idea of her fighting more than the monsters.

They couldn't stop her? Was she stronger than him?

Perhaps? Felt something - her passion was greater? Was it passion?

It had been confusing, still was - she'd been experimenting with this source inside her, she'd probed it delicately and found it warm and exciting and necessary - she'd thought handling it would reduce it's sway, help her control it better, to understand -

It hadn't subsided, not truly, was somehow a part of her now. It was a pleasure - that feeling, even if she wasn't ready to fully acknowledge what it meant - that she felt it for Hickory, for Weston, for -

It was her mother that set her on the proper path:

"And just what do you think they are fighting for?" May glanced at her father, he had a shotgun - a home defender, and waited, hovered, a serious, ready look - not out front to protect the house, but -

May had never seen her mother's face worried so she didn't look for it now, it would be smooth, her makeup applied in a natural manner, her hair long and layered and naturally lighter than May's own glistening chestnut.

Not a woman to panic -

"What do you think would happen if I ran out that door to fight, or for any reason?" Mother asked, "It wouldn't just be my husband that followed, but every man around here, no matter how old, how frail, they would come, too."

"But that's good, of course." May said, nodding, "They're good people."

May knew that wasn't the point her mother was making, even though she only sipped her tea.

Why would they?

May's mother remained silent - didn't tell her what to think. How to understand the world, she was too shrewd for that and it was one of May's most powerful lessons when she had first realized -

It's hard to prove silence wrong. Forcing May to figure it out had also taught her to think. To maneuver possibilities - to understand.

And there was so much - to communicating, so much nuance to it. Her mother could chastise her with a squeeze of lemon, she could reward her with a dab of honey, a splash of bitter tea - a look.

She could watch her mother move through church like a queen and there were times when May wanted to applaud - like a bystander watching a trained fencer fight off a group of clumsy foes, a compliment, a wave, a smile - a carefully turned shoulder and flick of the hair - it was dazzling.

A Ladies Power -

May saw it slower here, she was being trained - taught the ways...or just having tea?

A silent sip - to the point May sometimes thought she was crazy, was making it all up in her head, because there were people that didn't understand, like Aunt Jules - to her tea was just tea. She could warm with a smile, she understood a hug, a spoken insult.

It wasn't to say Jules was bad, or even unrefined, she just - she didn't care? Had never been ambitious? Or perhaps it was the opposite, perhaps Aunt Jules was too good?

There was so much that needed to be said - without saying it. May knew that, especially in polite company, especially in religious company. Especially from a lady.

Was it a woman being weak? Old fashioned to the point of extinction? To be able to cuss somebody out with just a small spoon and a smile, to leave them blushing and fumbling for a napkin. Sometimes it felt that way - felt like May understood a language that hardly anybody spoke anymore -

It was preposterous. Challenging -

May also sipped her tea, thinking about her mother's words - and she realized there was a lot - that her fighting could be distracting. That her running through the streets would also be like a grenade, her mother was right, all of them would follow - it would be effective, but the collateral damage would be severe -

But most importantly - if it wasn't needed? It would be like the boy that cried wolf, except - May fighting demons? Crazy - yes, maybe not at first, but eventually? She'd be the crazy lady.

Her mother sipped again, soft and long, there was a kiss of light lipstick on her cup. She then refilled both their vessels and added honey. There was so much...

"It's easy to feel safe with your father here, to be grateful, and what woman wouldn't want to have that strength, that prowess for themselves." Her mother said, and May heard the small clink of a wedding band against porcelain, she also heard her father's weight shift, he'd sat down at some point - he was listening. Mother knew he was listening and father was probably smiling, proud and pleased and - defending.

Men-

"I can't do what your father does." Mother said, shaking her head, "There is a vast difference between a spatula and a shotgun, have you ever seen your father try to flip an egg?"

May chuckled, the very idea! She sipped her tea -

"And that reminds me, I was hoping to start serving dinners Wednesday nights, at church. I think it would be good for the community, especially after this - " Her mother shook her head, "New threat."

And May saw it - understood what her mother was getting at and - it was brilliant. It was - she almost spilled her tea, her mother passed her a napkin, folding it first - without looking...

"Would you let me help...cook?"

"Of course, but it won't be that much, I'm sure others will want to bring dishes, it wouldn't be wrong for everybody to pitch in and it's been so long since I've had Angela's Watergate salad. I don't know how she does it, I think she puts white pepper in the pistachio base."

May breathed, watched her mother sip her tea and knew Angela's husband was a vet, he didn't go to church often, many husbands didn't, unless there was dinner. Food.

"Eileen also comes through with a fitting soup, she's always reliable." Weston's mother - May suddenly felt confused. Weston's father was a lawyer, she didn't think he was a fighter - but of course.

"Oh, I'll ask her." May said, smiling.

"Would you?" Her mother smiled warmly, "Thank you, that will save me from having to remember once things settle down, I'm sure there will be a lot happening."

The power went out, it flickered, and then died. Their backup generator kicked on a moment after -

"It's good to be prepared." Her mother said.

"You're telling me!" Her father laughed as he moved around the room, checking appliances and making sure they hadn't shorted out -

"I just wish it hadn't been so expensive." Mother agreed, "But you can't always put a price on comforts, it's hard to do anything without power."

May looked to meet her mothers eyes, but she was just musing, stirring her tea - So subtle -

And of course her family supported her relationship with Weston - May knew that, but -

"I don't know how mother made do with a wood stove, they're so much work to clean and manage, though there's a novelty to them, I admit."

Hickory - she'd hardly mentioned him -

Mother passed her a lemon wedge. May took it -

"Of course I still love having it, I'd never throw it out and it's always there in an emergency."

"I doubt it will come to that." Father said, coming in he took long swallows of the ice tea mother had set out for him, "Diesel generators are as reliable as they get, just make sure they have plenty of oil."

Covanger Oil

Mother smiled warmly at him with a feminine slat - 'Oil? A generator needs that. Thank goodness you're here, dear, or we'd all certainly starve...' and May almost felt chilled. Was it serendipity? Or did mother know him that well, to predict what he would say, to guide the words. To reinforce her point without him even knowing?

Layers - how many layers of meaning could there be?

Or was May just going crazy - but no, it was clear as it would be, she wasn't telling May what to do, but her point was that Weston was reliable, a good, strong choice with all the comforts and a happy life. That she also knew May had Hickory's interest, that perhaps May had not hid her own turgid desires on that front as well as she'd hoped - of course not from mother.

What was the surprise was mother insinuating for May to have them both...

"Of course dear, I definitely prefer the generator, but it's not like diesel grows on trees."

May sipped her tea. Mother did as well.

What a wild, insane, and somehow appealing thought - Could she?

"You know, I think we still have cake." Mother said, getting up and opening the freezer, "Will you have some, too?"

"I'll have a slice." Father said, rubbing his hands together - and May nodded, remembered to smile -

"Thank you, that would be splendid."